


Freebird

by Vinni



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Growing Up, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22615003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vinni/pseuds/Vinni
Summary: Ryoji Fujioka begins life as an average Japanese boy; things change.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Freebird

Each May, Ryoji Fujioka's parents flew a koinobori outside their home to celebrate Children's Day, the carp-shaped windsock identifying their family as having a son. It was Japanese tradition, after all, and they were very traditional parents with traditional beliefs. They ate sweet mochi and gave Ryoki traditional gifts.

When he was four, Ryoji flaunted his plastic kabuto helmet, looked down his pants and said, "I have a pee pee." When he was eight, he thanked his parents for the warrior doll, but secretly wanted the beautiful geisha. He looked down his pants and wondered, "Is my pee-pee broken?" At twelve, he sighed when his first archery set was presented to him. It was grand and he loved to practice, but he also wished he had the latest Baby G pink jelly wristwatch. He looked at his naked body in the mirror, studying his changing genitalia thinking, "I look like other boys, but I'm not the same as them."

At sixteen, his formal education ended and he began work with his father, a shopkeeper. That May, the Fujioka prepared a huge black carp to fly at the top of the flagpole but Ryoji said, "I'm too old for that now." The beautiful boy looked at the sad faces of his mother and father and relented. He admired the gift of samurai armor and went to bed early. 

It was in the wee hours of the morning that he left his childhood home behind along with a note for his parents that read, "I'm different and we all know it. Tell people whatever you want. I'll be fine. Love, Ryo-chan."

In Tokyo, he eked out a living as a street entertainer. He didn't play an instrument, but he could tap a small drum and sing, except the only songs he knew were old folk songs. Still, his tenor was sweet and clear and his looks turned heads.

Businessmen eyed him strangely as they ate lunch on the run, though some lingered to whisper bold suggestions in his ear. Secretaries told him he was cute. Shoppers and tourists stopped to listen to his voice caress the vintage tunes. Bit by bit his empty rice bowl filled with coins, enough to avoid starving.

And so it went until a local restaurateur approached him, asking his age. "Twenty," Ryoji lied. The man hired him to wash dishes and sing on weekends. His pay was a back room cot and a daily meal. Thus, his entertainment career began.

Life changed when he met Kotoko. She was older, educated and employed. She was also beautiful in Ryoji's eyes and he fell head over heels in love with her wit, her city savvy and her willingness to overlook their age difference and his lack of a real job. Before he was twenty-one, they were married and Haruhi was born. 

Ryoji became a stay-at-home dad while the young attorney practiced law. The blissful couple doted on their daughter who showed every sign of being as intelligent as Mom and as intuitive as Dad. Her talent in music was nil but her ambitions in life, great.

Kotoko's untimely death brought tears and changes to the Fujioka household. A series of short-lived jobs in sales, office work and delivery services soon convinced Ryoji that entertainment was his true calling, so when a new okama bar announced auditions for cross-dressing singers and dancers with persuasive social skills, he reworked one of Kotoko's kimonos, pushed his auburn hair into a high ponytail and donned a pair of platform heels. His makeup was garish and he could hardly walk, but he was given a card to fill out and a place in the queue of hopefuls at Club Wasabi. 

Some of those waiting to audition were well past forty and looked him over with venomous disdain, his youth a clear advantage. Others seemed sympathetic to his naievte, among them Crème who offered several tips to the novice drag queen. Others seemed bored or simply exhausted. Waiting backstage at Club Wasabi for what seemed like hours, Ryoji looked over the karaoke list, nerves jangling.

One line of the application read "Stage Name" and he paused, his mind going blank. All he could think of was a folk song about the legend of Ranka Mountain, so he jotted down "Ranka" and handed his card to someone dressed in black before stepping into the spotlight. 

The room beyond the stage area was pitch and although he couldn't see the audience, he felt eyes upon him. Always a social person, he made small talk with his unseen judges and even managed to make a joke. A man chuckled. So. That was nothing new, but wearing the kimono, heels and makeup, Ryoji sensed a difference in the way he was being viewed. It was strange and somewhat exciting. 

Pressing his fingertips to his lips, he breathed a prayer to Kotoko for luck. That's when the first bars of "Believe" riffed and the spirit of Cher infused his body, mind and soul. 

"Do you believe in life after love?" he sang and the question was more than rhetorical. With every bar, his identity as Ryoji faded and Ranka emerged, the heart thumping drive of the song filling him with a feeling of freedom he'd never experienced before. 

As Ryoji Fujioka, the baggage of life weighed heavily on his shoulders but as Ranka, he was a freebird and yes, he would make a decent life for himself and for Haruhi no matter what it took. She was now his raison d'etre. 

"Thank you, Kotoko," he thought to himself. "Thank you."

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this. Thanks for reading!


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